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Thanks to you all for all your years of support, opinions and conversation (illuminating and bizarre – I’m thinking especially of the man who believes he is a Jedi trained by Yoda: thanks for the hieroglyphic picture you drew whilst ordering a DVD showing “a Roman centurion lighting a fire”.) And thanks for your friendship. We’re happy to have met and known you (one or two through gritted teeth) and to have found and shared the profound in the simple things with you.

Love to all.

p.s. thanks for all the cake (check out the beauty at the top!!) AND THE CHEESE (and to which ever beautiful and romantic soul left the above)!

WE DON’T WANT YOU TO THINK THAT WE’RE A BUNCH OF LUSH-Y, COUNTER-LEANING, WRONG-DVD-GIVING, DRINKY, DRUNKY DRINKERS… BUT WHAT WITH A THREATENED WORLD SHORTAGE OF BEER AND THE NEW STATUS OF VODKA, RUM, WINE AND GIN AS THE MIRACLE CURE FOR ALL ILLS (INCLUDING IMMINENT UNEMPLOYMENT), WE HAVE DECIDED TO SAY “HELLO & GOODBYE” ONCE MORE (ESPECIALLY AS SO MANY OF YOU WERE UNABLE TO COME/BUY US DRINKS LAST TIME..)

CELEBRATE AND ENJOY

THE THINGS

YOU LOVE

WHILST

YOU CAN.

(THANKFULLY, MOST OF THOSE THINGS WILL BE FOUND IN THE SUN IN SPLENDOR FROM 8PM, MONDAY 22ND JUNE.)

“Every actor has to make terrible films from time to time, but the trick is never to be terrible in them.”

“The thing I have always tried to do is surprise people: to present them with something they didn’t expect.”

Christopher Lee, literally the screen’s most prolific actor, passed away last week at the sprightly age of 93. He will, no doubt, be remembered chiefly for his work in the horror genre, particularly in the heyday of Hammer Productions’ Dracula series, in which he played the villainous count 7 times. But what these reminiscences obscure is the enormous versatility of which Lee was possessed. Apart from his supernatural roles as Hammer’s Dracula, Mummy and Frankenstein Monster, his credits of evil include a Bond film, Star Wars, The Lord of the Rings and The Wicker Man. But lesser known are parts as both Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes (the latter for director Billy Wilder) as well as the mild-mannered Henry Baskerville, Muhammad Ali Jinnah, the founder of modern Pakistan and roles in Shakespearean productions, to name but a handful of his more than 200 screen credits.

And this diversity reveals what was so indescribably wonderful about Christopher Lee – he was an actor who never judged a film, never thought he was above material, just brought integrity to whatever project he happened to take on with grace and a characteristic power. He combined a classical style and stature with an utterly modern attitude to cinema, and seemed equally at home in contemporary or period settings, ‘high’ or ‘low’ brow fare, a knack few, if any, possess so abundantly.

Lee, a cousin of Bond author Ian Fleming, as villain Francisco Scaramanga in The Man with the Golden Gun.

I first discovered Christopher Lee in my early teens, watching The Man with the Golden Gun. I remember being struck by how, single-handedly, he saved Roger Moore’s Bond from irredeemable silliness. The gravity and presence that suffused his every on-screen moment captivated me, the nobility and power he managed to radiate even while his character’s defining trait seemed to be a third nipple. It was only after that I realized this was the same man who had brought such evil to life as Saruman in the recently-released Fellowship of the Ring – reveling in his character’s debasement and corruption opposite Ian McKellen’s excessive nobility – and had again shown up to save an otherwise disastrous film in Star Wars: Episode II – Attack of the Clones.

I subsequently devoured his work as Dracula, The Mummy and Frankenstein’s Monster. But then I saw The Wicker Man, Lee’s defining moment of remarkable power, dark humour and sinister grace (he himself considered it by far the greatest of his horror roles). Speechless at this work of brilliance, I immediately put my allowance to good use investing in his autobiography, which I would recommend to any, even casual, fan.

In many ways, looking back, the obsessive passion I quickly developed for Christopher Lee and his work was a pivotal moment in my lifelong love of film, a debt I will forever hold to his memory.

For Christopher Lee was an actor who seemed naturally to inspire cult-like devotion among fans. The legions of geeks, cinephiles and collaborators that have paid tribute since his passing is testament enough to that. And reading his autobiography, which reads every bit as charming and full of majesty, wit and wonder as his famous parts, it is easy to understand.

What a life this man led. Like many of his generation he fought in WWII. He ran spying missions in North Africa (for a secret bureau colloquially known as The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare) that are still classified to this day and continued that service of His Majesty after the war on covert operations to hunt down escaped former Nazis. After which, aged just 25, he decided to give acting a whirl.

Less known is that he was present at the final public execution by guillotine in Paris, was descended through Italian nobility from Roman Emperor Charlemagne, spoke at least six languages fluently and according to him several others conversationally, met (among many others) Rasputin’s assassins – he later played the mad monk onscreen – and J.R.R. Tolkien, and recorded, between the ages of 89 and 92, three heavy metal albums.

At the age of 79, Lee played what will likely be his most-remembered part, the white wizard Saruman in The Lord of the Rings trilogy. Lee, the only member of the cast to have actually met Tolkien, read the books once a year for the last 50 years of his life.

Though he took on an astonishing number of roles (appearing in, with two exceptions, at least one film a year since 1948), Lee was no mercenary. His battles with Hammer over the direction of their Dracula films are testament to that. After vowing to do no more, he returned when convinced of the fact that a whole division of Hammer staff would be laid off if another film was not made. Upon reading the script, he agreed to do the film but to say none of the dialogue, which he felt was awful. And so Dracula: Prince of Darkness features a speechless, hissing Lee as villain – Hammer, a company that routinely recast roles, decided they’d rather have a mute Lee than none at all.

This sort of silent physicality personified him as a performer. He once said, “I don’t play long parts. They must be short parts, but they’ve got to be parts that mean something, that matter, where people will notice when I’m on the screen, and people will remember the character after they’ve seen the film.” Well, we certainly remember them.

Lee, in a rare role as hero rather than villain. He battled a satanic cult as the Duc de Richelieu in Hammer’s The Devil Rides Out. Near the end, he even smiles.

For evidence of versatility, contrast his interpretation of Frankenstein’s Monster, for instance, with his other Hammer roles as Dracula and the Duc de Richelieu. As the Monster, gone is the aching Miltonian tragedy of Karloff. Lee’s performance is pure physicality, pure presence. Emptied of all emotion and humanity, Lee distills his craft into something altogether more primal, connecting with the audience’s basest fears as a mirror into which we can project whatever it is that truly scares us.

And yet, it is with an abundance rather than absence of inflection, in his other famous role as Count Dracula that Lee rewrites Bela Lugosi’s creepy posturing and Max Schreck’s abject horror. His Count seethes with sexual power – you believe (for once) that an unsuspecting visitor might really be taken in by his haughty smile, his measured cadence, his stature.

I would recommend The Devil Rides Out to all, for a glimpse of Lee as the hero of the story for a change. His skill as an actor is on show as he toys with the audience’s foreknowledge of him as a variety of villains by playing that familiar sinister edge against an unshakable faith in the forces of good and light.

This is just one of many performances that showcase his incredibly modern take on acting style, incorporating his cultivated relationship with fandom and the outside world intothe fabric of the film. He always seemed at once to be a part of the movie world and simultaneously talking right to you, sat in your seat in the cinema.

Four titans of horror: (clockwise from top left) Christopher Lee, Vincent Price, Peter Cushing and John Carradine on the set of House of the Long Shadows. It was Lee’s final film of 22 with Cushing, his best friend.

“One should try anything he can in his career, except folk dance and incest.” So said Sir Christopher once upon a time, and it can hardly be said that he didn’t try just about everything.

But he also said this: “We don’t always get the kind of work we want, but we always have a choice of whether to do it with good grace or not.” And if there is a defining characteristic to his attitude across the nearly-70 years that separate his first film appearance and his last, it is a grace, an effortless elegance and respect for both his fans and material, no matter what it might be.

Knighted at the age of 87 and awarded a BAFTA Fellowship at 89, it is clear that it took some time for Christopher Lee to be afforded the place he deserves in the pantheon of popular cinema. If we can carry a legacy forward in his name, let it be his balancing act of never judging a film as being beneath him (so long as it was crafted with integrity) and yet always taking care to do his part to the best of his considerable ability.

This is what captivated and thrilled me as a youngster, still does every time I see his name in the credits of a film (many of which I have watched purely for his brief appearances) and I’m sure did and does the same to all across the world who love him and his work.

“What’s really important for me is, as an old man, I’m known by my own generation and the next generation know me, too.” One hopes that in his final days he rested assured that there truly is no danger of his ever being forgotten.

Few actors will likely ever have the sort of longevity in the cinema that Christopher Lee had. Fewer still will inspire the fervent devotion of all those who loved him and relished his every screen role. And, I think it’s safe to say, there will never be any screen presence or career quite like Sir Christopher Lee’s again.

Christopher Lee 1922-2015

“Making films has never just been a job to me, it is my life. I have some interests outside of acting – I sing and I’ve written books, for instance – but acting is what keeps me going, it’s what I do, it gives life purpose.”

ALL EX-RENTAL CHILDREN’S DVDS ARE NOW JUST £2 TO BUY – SO GRAB YOUR KIDS SOME JOY BEFORE IT ALL DISAPPEARS FOREVER (THE DVDS, NOT THE JOY). OR GRAB SOME FOR YOUR ‘CHILDREN’, BUT REALLY FOR YOURSELF (I SPY ‘THE BLACK CAULDRON’ AND ‘THE LAST UNICORN’ STILL ON THE SHELVES…)

THERE ARE PLENTY OF TITLES IN STORE FOR THE REST OF YOU, TOO – INCLUDING LOADS OF NEW SALE STOCK WHICH IS NOW HALF PRICE OR LESS.

WE thought it would be nice (maybe we’re wrong) to get together for a swift pint or two to celebrate having made it this far. And it would be a nice opportunity to see what some of you look like without your Video City boxes in hand (shocking!)…

The Video City sale has now commenced in earnest. This is how it works:

New stock are selling at 2 for 1 (except on the latest releases). Rental copies are still £3 to rent as always or from £4 to buy. We also have Bargain Bins of ex-rentals for £2. We’re also open to reasonable offers if you’re planning on making yourself a small library..

If you’re of a fragile constitution, feel free to drop us a wish list of titles (specifying if you’re looking for new or ex-rental titles), to avoid that Black Friday feeling.

As you have probably gathered by now, Video City is shuffling off this mortal coil, to reinvent itself anew as the delicious object of your fondest memory. Forget childhood summers spent languishing by a pond (probably stagnant); all those long hot, sticky days, clutching at dandelions and carrying snails and worms about the garden (prank-fodder for unsuspecting siblings). Forget the allure of passions past and loves lost.

The mind harks back to exalted times when we believed in such things as continuity and learning to know one another. A nod and a smile, a look in the eye – memories of a belief, like Father Christmas or the Tooth Fairy. Could there really have been such a place?? A place to say hello and offer an opinion on whatever – a film, the weather, your memories of Christmas and summer. Some will say it was just a video shop. Others that it was a magical kingdom where people could come together, in person, and meet eye-to-eye. Yes, once such places existed, your memory will say..

***SSSSSSSSAAAALLLLLLEEEEEEE***

Ok. So it’s just a video shop.

But, in case you, too, are feeling nostalgic already – or just want to grab a bargain whilst you can – or even, just support us in our final weeks, get yourself some childhood and treat yourself to our mighty SALE.

Loads of ex-rentals from £2 – including TV series. And loads of new sale stock still to go – MEGA SALE starts from Monday 1st of June. Everything’s on offer – including all the rental titles (excluding the very latest releases and some out of print titles).

Since having announced our impending closure a little over four weeks ago we have been completely taken aback, not only by the extraordinary response locally, but also from the avalanche of emails and texts we have received from customers and friends past and present.

As I have mentioned before we have so enjoyed sharing our passion for film with all of you and it is genuinely heart-warming to realise it has been such a pleasure for so many of you too.

A number of people came forward with extremely generous offers of support and put a huge amount of effort into publicising our plight. I would like to take this opportunity to sincerely thank those individuals (particularly Amanda!) for their incredible generosity and for giving up so much time on our behalf. Unfortunately, after much consideration I feel that even with the offers of assistance we would only be giving ourselves a temporary stay of execution and as a result, we will still be closing our doors on June 24th.

From June 1st there will be a multitude of sale bargains on offer and I would like to encourage all of you to come and support us in our final weeks.

On an up note, we intend to close early on Wednesday 3rd June as we will all be in the Uxbridge Arms (directly behind us) from 8pm, enjoying a shandy/Jagerbomb. We would love as many of you as possible to come and join us for a celebration of the thirty years we have shared with you in this amazing neighbourhood!

Once again thank you for all your incredible support, love and friendship.

Writer/director Peter Strickland turns his eye to sexualityin the follow-up to his celebratedBerberian Sound Studio. The Duke of Burgundy chronicles the relationship between Cynthia (Sidse Babbett Knudsen) and Evelyn (Chiara D’Anna), lovers and entomologists who specialize in butterflies (of which the titular Duke is in fact a European species), a relationship with a strong BDSM dimension.

Strickland’s affinity for exploitation cinema of the 1970s is clear, with parallels being drawn betweenDuke and the work of Jean Rollin and Jess Franco, along with the era’s softcore strain in general. But Strickland seems less interested in the erotic than the trappings of the erotic. Which isn’t to say the film isn’tkinky: a minor plot point revolves around a device whose very function I’d prefer not to think about. There’s alsoalmost no nudity here, but plenty of high-heeled boots, false eyelashes, and elaborate lingerie. (It speaks volumes that, in…

Mad Max: Fury Roadis a thrilling ride set in a post-apocalyptic world where the main ruler has centralized all resources. The new world is a top-down patriarchy where water, plants and even women and men are resources controlled and owned by a ruthless authoritarian version of Methuselah called Immortan Joe (Hugh Keays-Byrne), who has also propelled himself by conveying a myth of eternal existence to his followers. Indeed, the regime at the Citadel is a strange combination of religious fanaticism, top-down control, private ownership of natural resources, and a cult-like militarized core of supporters who are mostly male.

The population at the Citadel also embody extremes; Immortan Joe’s army and the main inhabitants of the Citadel are pale white mutant warriors who need blood transfusions to function and exist as devout cannon fodder for their ruler/father figure. They run the Citadel through violence and manage a host of…